


I will not listen to you die (while my heart still lives)

by BardicRaven



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alien Culture, Aliens, Communication, Extra-terrestrials, F/M, Freedom, Gen, On the Run, Partnership, Repaying Debt, Rescue, Sharing a Bed, Shooting, Teamwork, a touch of smut, dude in distress, heart of gold - Freeform, nerves of steel, olicity - Freeform, to salute the spring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:24:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BardicRaven/pseuds/BardicRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heart of gold and nerves of steel.</p><p>She'd always had the one.</p><p>He'd helped her find the other.</p><p>On a night like tonight, he had to wonder if he'd done the right thing.</p><p> </p><p>  <strong>Update: cha 10 (final one for this story, tho' not necessarily this series) up - 04-08-15 (~1100 words to finish with - just a touch of smut, so upped the rating)</strong></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Voice in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hiding My Heart Away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2845304) by [serenadreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenadreams/pseuds/serenadreams). 



> _"Sometimes she listens over the comms as he takes his last breath, raggedy and alone, and her fingers on the keyboard are as useless as her tears."_
> 
> ##### from Hiding My Heart Away by serenadreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ##### “Oliver! It doesn't matter. What good's a secret identity if you're dead?”
> 
> ##### -Felicity Smoak

>>>\----------->

His luck had run out. He'd always known it would, perhaps even prayed for it in a little corner of his mind that he let no-one else see.

Dying alone, as he'd always suspected he would.

Except.

Not quite alone.

The voice in his ear was with him.

“Oliver? Stay with me. I'm calling 911.”

“No...” he rasped out.

“Oliver! It doesn't matter. What good's a secret identity if you're dead?”

He heard her voice switch to the operator. 

“Yes, I need an ambulance sent to Faith & Futurity. There's been a shooting.” _It's a long story._ “No, I'm not there at the scene. Just, please... this isn't a joke. A man is dying out there.” _Alone. And I can't live without him._

“They're coming, Oliver. Stay with me.”

He wanted to protest, tell her that his job wasn't done, he couldn't take off the mask yet, but reality was blurring, he felt cold and weak, and really, all he could do was hold on to that beautiful voice in his ear, telling him to stay with her.

He did his best. With the Will that had gotten him home from hell, only to find it reflected back at him in the skyline of his city, he held on... to consciousness, to life.

With a hand that felt like lead, he did his best to staunch the blood.

He couldn't let the voice down.

And all the while, the voice continued in his ear, encouraging him, pleading with him, occasionally even yelling at him when he started to fade away again.

Then the ambulance arrived and amid the flurry of emergency medicine, the voice fell silent.

As it did, so did he, sliding away into unconsciousness as the mask was stripped away, his secret revealed, his bow and quiver tucked away as evidence.

>>>\----------->

He would have told her not to come, that it was far too dangerous now, that accessory to murder and aggravated assault was no joke, but even if he'd had a good way to get ahold of her, a way that would be private enough to be safe, he knew she wouldn't listen.

Strong and willful, that one.

His Felicity.

Heart of gold and nerves of steel.

She'd always had the one.

He'd helped her find the other.

On a night like tonight, he had to wonder if he'd done the right thing.


	2. Rattling Handcuffs and Rattled Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ##### Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak are two of a kind - stubborn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ##### *sorries for the shortness, but there is more and this is the break that made sense* *ducks* :D -B! 

>>>\----------->

He rattled the handcuff against the rail, just to hear the sound and put the officer standing guard outside his room on alert.

He didn't have much else to amuse him at the moment besides cop-baiting and trying to keep the nightmares out of his head, the ones where Diggle, Roy, and Felicity went down for helping him.

Especially Felicity.

She was a stubborn one too. Bred in the bone, and honed by working with him over the last several years.

She was used to shouting over him, staring him down, doing whatever she had to in order to get him to listen to her.

She wasn't about to give up now.

He knew that.

And it scared him.

To say he didn't mind going down would be an understatement, but as long as he was the only one paying for his choices, it was okay.

Felicity wouldn't leave it at that, he knew. She was too stubborn, too loyal, to just let him go.

Even if it meant that she joined him in prison.


	3. Of Rambles and Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ##### Felicity rambles, then refuses to leave.
> 
> ##### Oliver thinks about having a heart attack.

>>>\----------->

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a voice speaking to the officer outside. His heart leapt as he recognized it as hers, even while his head groaned at the sound.

His Felicity. 

Come to save the day and get herself arrested while she was at it.

He listened with both amusement and awe as she rambled at the cop until she achieved her goal: permission.

Then she was in the room and everything else faded away.

“Oliver!” Her ridiculously high-heels tapped quickly across the tiled floor, coming to a stop beside his bed.

“It's good to see you. Alive, that is. I mean... well, of course it wouldn't be good to see you dead, although... never seeing a body would mean there's no closure, so, maybe...”

“It's good to see you, too.” He laughed gently at her, in that all-too-rare way he had when he let himself be himself, when he set the Arrow's mask aside and was simply Oliver Queen.

“But...” His face clouded. “You're shouldn't be here. It's not safe.”

She smiled, a small sad smile, looking past him at something he couldn't see. “You think I don't know?” she said softly. “I've watched the shows. I've read the stories. But it doesn't matter. It hasn't mattered since the day I started working for you. The moment I knew your secret, I was no longer safe.”

“The moment I knew the name behind the mask, I knew that if you went down, I would too.”

She held his gaze in that proud way she had, and once again Oliver Queen wondered what he had ever done to deserve her. 

“And it doesn't matter.”

“Yes, it does.” He spoke roughly, trying to make her see sense. “Prison's no joke. You'd be crushed in there. And even if you made it through – what then? Your name will be ruined, your reputation in shreds. Who will hire you then? How will you make a living?”

“You'd be surprised – a lot of the best computer-security people out there were arrested first. Takes a hacker to catch a hacker, you know,” she replied airily.

“Felicity!” The cop looked at him and he quickly calmed himself. The cop looked away again. “Felicity...” he said, more quietly, but no less urgently.

“I'm not leaving, Oliver, so you might as well stop wasting your breath and the time we have together. I can't stay here forever, much as I would like to.”

His voice sank to an urgent whisper. “Felicity, you have to promise me. When they come for you, you put this all on me, you understand? I forced you to help me, blackmailed you into staying... tell them whatever you have to, but you get yourself clear, you understand?”

With his free hand he reached out, cupped her face. “You understand?” he repeated.

She held his gaze for a long moment, while Oliver hoped desperately that she would give in, just this once.

“I understand,” she said finally, and he fell back against the pillows, relieved.

He really should have remembered that this was his Felicity he was talking to. 

“You just stay here and heal. I've got some things to take care of.”

She leaned over, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then was gone, her heels tap-tap-tapping against the cold floor.


	4. The Spirit and the Letter and the Spirit again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ##### Felicity brings Oliver a gift. The only question is... will he accept it?

>>>\----------->

He healed. He went through the legalities – lawyers, arraignment. He didn't say a word in his own defense. What was there to say? In the spirit of the law he'd done little wrong, but in the letter of the law, he was damned.

Nothing he could say would change that, so he said nothing.

When Felicity stayed away, he dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, she had listened to him.

He missed her, desperately, but was pleased too. With every day that passed and she did not appear, he could hope that she had gotten herself free.

So when all hell broke loose in the small hours of the night before his trial was due to begin, it took a moment for him to realize what was happening.

The guard in front of his room vanished in the confusion. A moment later, Diggle appeared with a handcuff key and a grim expression.

“Come on, man. It's time to go.”

“Diggle...” he began.

“No time. Let's go.” he quickly undid the handcuff, started to help Oliver to stand.

Oliver refused to move. “Is Felicity behind this?” he asked.

“What do you think? Now, come on. We don't have time for this.”

“I'm not going to let her add aiding and abetting a fugitive to her list of crimes,” Oliver said, pulling his arm free from Diggle's helping hand. “The list is already long enough. Tell her, thank you, but no. I'll do my time. As she's so fond of saying, it doesn't matter.”

“That's where you're wrong. First of all, what do you seriously think the chances of you getting a fair trial in this city really are? Secondly, she's already dug herself in deep to help you, so bailing on her now isn't going to help either one of you. And thirdly, we do not have time for this.”

He gave up. “Where?” he said resignedly.

“This way.” Diggle swiftly led the way through the confusion to a small, nondescript car waiting in the patient pick-up area.

“Thanks, man,” Diggle said over his shoulder to one of the waiting people. “Hope your sister is feeling better real soon.”

“What was that all about?” Oliver asked as he slid into the back seat.

“It's a long story,” came a familiar voice.

Oliver closed his eyes. “Felicity...”

“I wasn't going to let you go to prison – or worse, Oliver. You should have known that.”

“I should have sent you away a long time ago,” he gritted.

“You're welcome.”

“We're not out of here yet.”

“We will be. One daring escape coming up,” she said, putting the car in drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ##### Here ya go. Total pants-ing from this chapter on out.
> 
> #####  You have been warned. :D 
> 
> ##### -B!


	5. I will not listen to you die.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Felicity educates Oliver on a few facts of life. Such as what he gets to tell her and what he does not.

>>>\----------->

Felicity paused in their flight just long enough to let Diggle out at his house. Lyla would be able to give him a cover story that was good enough to discourage most, and had the ability to threaten the rest into leaving him alone.

Felicity wouldn't be so lucky, and besides, she wouldn't leave without Oliver, and she knew damn well Oliver wouldn't run without her, so that part of it was a no-brainer.

When they were far enough out of the city that she felt safe stopping, Felicity pulled over into a handy rest area. Rummaging around in her voluminous purse, she eventually found her quarry, handed Oliver an envelope. “Your new identity.”

He took it in stoic silence.

“You could say 'thank you'.” she said to his look of disbelief.

“Felicity, not that I'm not grateful for the thought, but have you considered...”

“Remember what I said, Oliver, about having seen all the shows, read all the stories? I planned for this day years ago. So, yes, you can trust it. I know what I'm doing.”

“It means leaving the city.” he said, voice filled with regret.

“Yes. But you get to live, be free.”

“What about the Foundry?”

“I took everything that would be useful, destroyed the rest.” She swallowed. It had been so hard to set the worm free, to destroy the system that she'd poured so much blood, sweat, and tears into, spent so much of her life working with, so much harder than she'd expected it to be.

“Felicity...” he began.

“Don't say it. Just. Don't. Say it. I made my choice, same as you. We've had this conversation I don't know how many times, and I just can't deal with having it again right now.” So strong, but Oliver could see the fragility underneath, the calm dissipating before the rapidly approaching storm.

“I wasn't going to,” he said, telling himself that the lie didn't matter, that it was so small compared to all the others he'd told her over the years, that it wasn't even noticeable.

“What I was going to say was... thank you.”

“Oh.” she said in a small voice that was so unlike the Felicity he knew.

“You know you don't have to do this,” he said quietly. “It's not too late to turn back. I can say I put you up to it, forced you to...” 

“Oliver!” she shouted as her temper finally frayed. "Will you stop trying to be so god-dammed noble! Can't you let anyone do anything for you?" 

"Not when it involves sacrificing their lives." Quick and quiet and deadly serious.

"No, you reserve _that_ honor only for yourself,” she snapped. “Well, I have news for you, Oliver Queen, but other people actually care about you. Enough to make sacrifices on your behalf. The least you can do is freaking ACCEPT!" And the dam broke. All the tears she'd stuffed away, promising she'd deal with them later, came out in one huge torrent of wet, snotty bawling. She grabbed for a tissue from her purse, snuffled into it.

Oliver froze for a moment, unnerved by the force of her emotion, then forced himself into movement, pulling her gently across the center console to rest her head on his shoulder. He patted her arm, a little awkwardly.

“I'm sorry, Felicity. And you're right – it is hard to accept. You've just thrown the rest of your life away to run with me, a hunted fugitive. You'll have to forgive me if I don't really understand why.”

She sat up, looked him in the eyes. “Because you're worth it to me. That's the thing, Oliver. You don't get to decide your value to others – they do. And to me, you're the most important person in the world. So, yes, I've helped you. Even though that means running. Even though that means never seeing my family again. I've. Made. That. Choice. And you don't get to tell me 'no'. You don't have to accept it, but you don't get to tell me what I can or cannot do.”

He nodded, saying nothing in that way that Felicity knew was his way of giving in without actually having to give in, actually speak his surrender.

“All right then. We should go. We've got a long way to go before the dawn.” She stuffed the tissue into the designated trash bag, turned her attention back to the wheel.

She put the car in motion, heading east, back to the land she used to call home, the perfect place for the kind of gamble she was playing.

>>>\----------->

>>>\----------->

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ##### A bit more for an Arrow-episode day.
> 
> ##### For those of you following and liking this story, the rest of it is beginning to come together. Not all the details are known yet, but enough that I think I can pull something together.
> 
> ##### Enough that it is 'safe' to go on reading. (I hate when I'm reading a good story and it turns out it is unfinished and abandoned. I suspect I am not alone in this.)
> 
> ##### As ever, comment, share, let me know you're out there. Every Diva likes to have an audience for her to share her gifts with, and the connection really does feed the Muse(s).
> 
> ##### -B!


	6. nightmare and dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Oliver conquers nightmares and gets the girl of his dreams, at least to an extent.

>>>\----------->

Hours later, but thankfully before the dawn turned the driving into a hellish blinding of rising sun, they pulled into a cookie-cutter sub-division just like half-a-dozen others they'd passed on their way. They stopped in front of a house that was the identical twin to all the others on the street, turned into the drive, parked.

“We're home.”

She got out, pulled the keys from her purse. “I know it doesn't look like much, but it was cheap, furnished, and available immediately, and it's far enough away from the tourists that we should be able to lie low.”

“Coming?” she asked when he just stood there by the side of the car, staring back West, as if hoping to find some ruby-shoed solution to his exile.

He shook himself, came back to her.

Though even then, she should have realized it was all a lie.

>>>\----------->

There was a lot they had to learn about each other, and quickly. Working together was one thing, but for as many hours as they spent together, they'd always gone home alone at the end of the night. 

Now, they were living with each other all the time, toothpaste tubes and toilet seats and milk left on the counter and all.

The hardest thing to handle were the dreams. Her own were not pleasant, involving as they did all the choices she'd made over the last few months, all the endless variations and second-guesses, but his were horrific.

He'd come home in body five years ago, but clearly a part of his mind never had.

The first time she heard him cry out in his sleep, she rushed over to his room, touched him as he thrashed, deep in nightmare, seeking to bring him comfort, and promptly found herself on her back on the mattress beside him, Oliver's forearm across her throat.

As he woke, saw who she really was, he moved away with that over-controlled grace that said he was still wound tight.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he snapped.

“You were having nightmares. I'd thought... I'd hoped.... Never mind.” She rolled off the bed, on the far side from him, and stood watching him, warily. It wasn't often that he reminded her of the killer he was, the finely-honed hunter of men, but this was one of those times.

“No.” was all he said, though Felicity wasn't sure if it was to her or to himself.

The moments stretched out between them. Finally, Oliver broke the silence. “You meant well. I get that. But next time...” He shook his head, unable to complete the sentence, though why he couldn't, he wouldn't, have said. Right now, some things just didn't bear looking into too closely.

The house was too small, their situation too large, for much disturbance in the status quo.

Things would change, of course, they always did, but for now, better far to just let it go.

Peace was far too precious a commodity to cast away lightly, especially now.

>>>\----------->

The next time, Felicity stood in the doorway, called his name. He startled awake, gasped a huge breath, then came back to himself.

Saw her standing there, nodded his thanks.

“You're welcome,” she said and meant it.

>>>\----------->

After one particularly exhausting night, when every time he had dared to fall back asleep, he shortly woke up again screaming, Felicity sat on the edge of the bed, after the latest time of her waking him from the safety of a room's worth of distance, her hand gently touching his arm, his other hand on hers, clutching it as if to a lifeline.

“Oliver,” she started, hesitated.

“What?” he said tiredly.

“Would it help if... if I stayed? With you?”

He sighed. “It might. Or I might try to kill you again. I don't know.”

“Let me try.”

He wanted to say no, that it wasn't worth the risk, but she smiled at him with a smile that looked as tired as he felt.

“Really, if I don't get some sleep, I'm going to die anyway, so what difference does it make?” When he opened his mouth to argue, she gently laid a finger across his lips. “I trust you. Please... trust yourself.”

He nodded, once, in surrender, scooted over, gestured for her to join him under the blankets.

When she was there, he wrapped himself around her as if he never planned on letting go.

And together, they had the first peaceful sleep they'd had in far too long.

>>>\----------->

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ##### Another piece of the puzzle for a Arrow-episode's evening.
> 
> ##### Please comment, share on social media, and otherwise let me and my Muses know you're out there - it helps in the writing. For realz.
> 
> ##### -B!


	7. ruby red shoes not available in his size, either

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Oliver longs for many things and Felicity is keeping secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ##### The chapter title is a salute to the wondrous story 'ruby red slippers (unavailable in her size) by sarcastic_fina (http://archiveofourown.org/works/1676819).

>>>\----------->

After that, she stayed with him every night. They never took it farther than sleep, tho' if he'd offered, she'd've not told him 'no'. But again, it felt too soon, the peace too fragile, to risk on something as transitory as a night of release.

At least not yet.

Felicity noted with quiet satisfaction that Oliver never had another nightmare as long as she was there, next to him, a warm refuge from the cold horrors of his past.

But she also noticed, with less peace, that she didn't always wake to find him by her side.

It had been a shift for both of them, to start sleeping in the nighttime again, although they'd come at it from different directions – Oliver was used to sleeping for a few hours in the morning, between coming back to the Foundry after patrol and heading into Queen, Consolidated for his work there, while Felicity had grabbed her precious few hours after she'd gotten off work in the evening and before it was time for her night-shift at the Foundry to begin.

They tended to stay up late, a nod to old times and old habits, and then fall into bed, to sleep as best they could for as long as they could. But often, she would wake in the night to find him gone. She'd walk out to the living room, find him staring out the window at the night.

He never said anything to her, and she didn't always even let him know she was there.

She knew he missed his old life, his sense of purpose. 

But there was no help for it. If he went back to his old ways, the police would know where he was. And for all of Las Vegas' checkered past, and occasionally dubious present, she didn't want to risk their freedom on the LVPD's unwillingness to share the news with the SCPD.

So she'd fade back to the bedroom, check the closet, the duffel where she'd hidden his leathers, his bow, as many arrows as she could fit, make sure that her guilty secret still remain unlearned, then return to the cold bed, and wait impatiently for the dawn.

>>>\----------->

As their money dwindled, Felicity quietly began to put out feelers in her old community. She was a hacker, and there was always a market for someone with her skills. 

She kept her inquiries quiet, careful, but it was the direction from which the answer she'd been hoping for ultimately came that surprised her the most.

It was Ray Palmer. Contacting her about a freelance position for the former Queen, Consolidated, now Palmer Technologies, citing their need to make even more sure that their systems were secure as they moved forward into this new area of research and development they were currently working on.

But it was the way he said things, the things that she could read between the lines, that left her thinking that he knew exactly who she was, and was offering to help her.

Her first instinct was still to turn him down - she didn't want him to get in trouble for helping her, but on the other hand, if he'd meant to turn her in, the cops would have already been at her door, and there'd been no sign that they were going to be seeking her out any time soon.

So that was a plus, that he knew who she was, and was prepared to keep her secrets.

On the definite minus side, though, she suspected, would be Oliver's reaction once he found out.

"Who's that?" he asked, leaning over her shoulder one afternoon as she was reading the latest e-mail in the negotiation.

"Ray Palmer's offering me a freelance position to test his company's computer security and make recommendations." She held her breath, waiting for the explosion.

"And you think is a good idea because?" he asked guardedly.

She took a deep breath. "Because our money's getting low. I couldn't, didn't dare, tap into your accounts for this. I had to put money aside, and even with the raise Ray gave me when... well, after, still, there was only so much I could do in the time I had. And before, well, I've been putting money aside in this account against a stormy day since I started working with you, but still...." She shrugged.

He nodded, walked away, the lines of his body clearly telling her that he wasn't happy, but also that he couldn't argue, wouldn't fight her. She let out the breath she'd been holding, composed an e-mail, told Ray 'yes', she'd accept his offer.

There was a part of her that still didn't want to, but she recognized the irony of insisting that Oliver accept her help, while she refused the help of others.

>>>\----------->

It was a few nights later that Oliver disappeared.

She woke in the night to find Oliver gone from the bed they now shared. That was, sadly, not unusual, and had only gotten more so as time went by.

But what was unusual was what she found in the closet.

Or rather, what she didn't find.

The duffel that she'd hid his leathers, his bow, his arrows in, was gone.

And when she went out to the living room, she realized, so was Oliver.

She sat up, scared, until the dawn, when a noise in the kitchen turned out to be Oliver coming in the back door, returning from a night on patrol.

He said nothing as she came in to the room, saw him in his leathers, his bow in his hand, his quiver on his back. Their eyes met, neither side guilty nor expressing regret for what they'd done.

After a moment, he walked past her, stalked into his bedroom, closed the door.

Felicity said nothing, then or later. She'd known that it would come to this, someday. She'd known that when she packed his costume, his bow, his arrows.

But she couldn't just leave them behind. They meant too much to him to destroy, and were far too incriminating to leave.

So she'd taken the gamble of bringing them with her, knowing that one day, this Pandora's Box would be opened. She could only hope that it would bring less destruction than the original when it was.

>>>\----------->

>>>\----------->

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ##### There you go! Life goes on.
> 
> ##### Secrets are revealed.
> 
> ##### The past comes back to haunt them.
> 
> ##### If you are enjoying this story, please, comment, share on social media, etc. Let me know you're out there - it really does help the Muse(s) and I feel loved.
> 
> ##### -B!


	8. of canaries in a cage and starfish in the ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New patterns and old habits clash forcing and forming new habits from old patterns.
> 
> a.k.a. Two immensely stubborn people learn to work together in this new way in and from a new place.

>>>\----------->

And so things fell into a pattern, not the old, comfortable, comforting pattern, nor yet a settled new one.

Each night, they would go to bed together, both knowing that sometime in the night, Felicity would wake and find him gone.

She hated it, hated the risks he was taking, with his life, with hers, but she said nothing.

Until the day he came home battered, bruised, clearly having gotten the worst of whatever fight he'd been in.

"I shouldn't have brought them,” she said, tight, hard, angry. “You care about the bow more than you care about me. Us. Our safety. You don't care what happens as long as..." 

"I didn't ask to be put in a cage again.” Words as sharp as steel and cutting as deep. “I had enough of that before." He returned her anger, her frustration, in full measure. "If I'd wanted that, I could have stayed in Starling."

She said nothing, her lips pressing into a thin line as the tears sprang silently to her eyes. She turned and practically ran from the kitchen, going to her bedroom, throwing herself on the bed pressing her face into the pillow as the tears came, hot, heavy.

When she was done, she fell into a headachy sleep, restless and full of disquieting dreams.

When she woke, it was to find Oliver gone.

>>>\----------->

He didn't return for three days, three days Felicity spent waiting, worrying, wondering if she should stay or run. Just as she was starting to think that leaving might be the better part of... something, valor, discretion, staying out of prison, Oliver returned, bloody, broody, and silent.

"I see you chose the cage," she said snarkily, not ready to forgive him just yet. "I thought you might have gone back to Starling. Was wondering if I should pack up and leave again."

"No." he replied, although whether it was to her comment about his returning to Starling or her leaving, she couldn't tell.

She left him to patch his own wounds. He did, and kept the silence going just as thoroughly as she did.

That night, they slept apart, and for once, Felicity didn't go to him in his nightmares. She put a pillow over her head and tried to sleep, refusing to give in to the voices that told her to go to him, to understand, to forgive.

>>>\----------->

They continued like that for a couple of days, until at last, the stiff silence grew too heavy to bear.

“Felicity,” came a quiet voice out of the darkness, as Oliver came to sit on her bed. She shifted over pointedly, giving him plenty of room and no contact.

He noticed the movement, sighed, weighed his options, chose to stay. “I'm sorry. For what I said. I know you took a risk in bringing me here. I know you gave up everything to help me. As I told you, what I don't understand is _why_.”

“And you don't seem to value it either,” came the tear-stained voice from the depths of the blankets, truth emerging from the darkness, of the room, of their shared pain.

“Felicity, what do you want from me?” he said, clearly frustrated, but trying to maintain patience. “I can't stay in here forever. It's just another prison if I do.”

“I know. I get that. That's why I didn't say anything for so long, when you started going on patrol again. I knew you needed your freedom. But...” she trailed off, curled in more on herself, a little huddle of misery under the soft down of the comforter.

“What?” he asked, but this time the word was softer, more gentle.

“As much as you need your freedom, I need to know you're safe. That we're safe. That I didn't give up everything just to have you throw it all away.”

He reached over, touched her arm where it lay under the blankets. She didn't move away. “You didn't. I'm not. But Felicity, I can't just hide in here forever. I won't.” 

“When I came back from the island, I had a purpose. Something I'd never had before. Now, you're asking me to give that up. And I can't. I won't. I won't be that empty man any more. I need you to understand that.” He squeezed her arm gently, let her go, gave her the space to choose.

He looked away, staring off into the distance. He felt the movement of the covers as she scooted back to him, curled around him where he sat.

“I know." she said as she reached out, hugged him around the waist. "I know you can't just sit there, taking up space. But what I don't know is what to do about it, Oliver.” He reached out, pressed her body closer to his, returning the hug in the way that he could. “I don't want to lose you. That's why I did all this. Maybe I've watched too much television, but... but the odds didn't seem very good for you making it out alive any other way than this.”

“You're right. I won't be caged again.” he said quietly. He felt her shiver against his body with the cold finality of his words and knew she had heard the words he'd left unsaid, but meant just as much.

“Not to mention all the people you put in there.” she said, after a moment.

“There's that.”

They stayed there, silent for a while.

"So now what?"

"I don't know." He sighed. "I can't do it alone, I know that much. The last few days proved that. I got lucky the last time - I shouldn't have. I almost didn't make it back as it was."

He felt the shudder against his body, reached down, touched Felicity's shoulder through the blankets.

"I almost didn't come back to you. And if I'd died out there - you never would have known, until it was too late."

Felicity made a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. "That's how this all started."

He nodded. "And you didn't let me give up then. I'm grateful for that, despite what it seems.” A pause, a breath. “But I'm going to give up now."

"Oliver, you don't mean..." her voice cut in, quick and quiet.

"No," He squeezed her shoulder. "Not on living. I wouldn't do that to you." He took a deep breath, let it go, let his freedom go with it. "No, I'm going to give up the Arrow."

"Do you mean it?" Her voice was a mix of hope and sorrow and relief and astonishment and anger all so jumbled up that he didn't know what to make of it.

He slumped and Felicity pulled him down against her, scooting over to give him room on the mattress. He allowed it, came to her, felt her body next to his, warm and real through the layers between them.

"I do." Somehow, even tho' a part of Felicity had longed to hear those words for years, this wasn't the triumph she'd thought it would be.

"What about the cage?" she asked softly. “Even if you're the one putting yourself in there, it's still a cage.”

"I'll manage. I survived before. I can do it again." He stayed facing away from her so she couldn't see the hopelessness, the despair on his face.

He felt her rise up on one arm, rolled to see her looking down at him, an unreadable expression on her face.

"No. You shouldn't have to." He looked at her guardedly, wondering what game she was playing, what she was up to.

She took a deep breath. "Being the Arrow, helping people, it's who you are now. You said it yourself. Being the Arrow gave you a purpose in life, a chance to do something, be a part of something larger than yourself."

"What are you saying?" Now it was his turn for the mix of hope and hell.

She steeled herself, said the words. "I'm saying that I'll help you. For as long as we can make it work, I'll help you. I was wrong to take you away from everything. Wrong to ask you to live this half-life you've been living.” A pause. “And wrong to ask you to give up being the Arrow."

"Are you sure?"

She laughed again, short, sharp. "Truthfully? No. But you deserve the chance. And you'll have a better one if I'm there."

The pride was in her voice again, and Oliver dared to believe her.

"Okay. Tell me what you need from me."

"Let me get some equipment together."

>>>\----------->

It wasn't the set-up they'd had before, of course. That would have been both too costly and too likely to attract attention.

But it was enough.

Enough to get him home safely each night. Enough to help him help people.

Not a large number. But for those he helped, it was everything.

And that was enough, too.

>>>\----------->

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ##### And there you go. Ebb and flow. Coming apart and going together.
> 
> ##### As of this writing, this is all I have written out. I know what happens overall, but not the inciting incident that leads us into the next part. So until I find it, we're potentially at a bit of a pause with this one. (On the other wing, often statements like the above are what get my Muse(s) pondering, so the pause may, if we are all so blessed, not be any longer than any of the others.)
> 
> ##### Btw, apologies for the delay in posting. It's tech week this week for the show I'm in, and I had rehearsal over this week's episode, so plum forgot it was Wednesday in the updating-sense. But since I hear tell from Stephen Amell's FB page that we are back in pause-mode on the show, perhaps a bit of a delay will be good - lets you have something to read during the break. ;-)
> 
> ##### As ever, if you are enjoying this story, please comment, share on social media, leave kudoes if you haven't already. (I agree - they need to develop a way to let you leave kudoes on chapters as well as fics.) The knowledge that you are out there really does encourage my Muse(s) and I to keep writing, and more importantly from your end, take the time to keep posting.
> 
> ##### -B!


	9. turns out ruby slippers ARE available in his size

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Oliver gets help from a truly startling source, and Felicity does the Google search of a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thnx to [wickedcarrieann](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedcarrieann/pseuds/wickedcarrieann) for her thoughts on how to get them home again. While the story took a sharp turn to the surprising and ended up not going the way I'd thought it would, still I appreciate the suggestion, and it did get used to some extent, tho' the message Ray brings is SO not the message I thought he would.
> 
> -B!

Who knows how long it would have continued, this dance of predator and prey and sheer determination, how long it would have lasted before being brutally ended to arrest, to someone faster, stronger, luckier, but it didn't have the chance to play out naturally.

It started out like any other night. A quick kiss on the forehead, intimacy without pressure, pledge and promise, then slipping out the kitchen door into the night.

From there, it took a sharp turn into strange.

He made his way quietly through the streets, looking for the small places he could help.  
Nothing much. He was about to turn and head for home, when he saw it.

An ordinary mugging, to all appearances. A gang of young toughs surrounding a man of indeterminate age, but great height.

Very well. He'd take it. It was his daily fare these days - the sorts of cases he would have left to the cops whenever possible back in Starling.

But then, he wasn't IN Starling City any more, a fact made brutally clear each and every day he woke up and remembered where he was. Who and what he was now.

Now little changes were all he could make, little helps all he could offer.

He'd promised himself, Felicity, that it would be enough.

He'd make it be enough.

No matter how much it wasn't.

And it looked like a clear case of right and wrong. A blessed piece of unambiguous crime for him to take his frustrations out on.

He refused to allow himself the escape of crawling into a bottle or the oblivion of a needle, and to take it out on Felicity was so far beyond unacceptable that he wouldn't allow himself to even think it.

He quickly closed the distance, nocked and fired one of his precious flash-bangs to startle the attackers, get them to focus on him instead of their victim.

It worked. Now came the fun part.

He didn't used to glory in the fight, back before he'd lost his home and what little was left of his name and reputation. Now, it was the only acceptable release for his anger and frustration - at what he'd become, what his life had become.

It didn't take long before he was left standing alone in a circle of unconscious bodies. He looked up, panting lightly from the exertion, to find the intended victim watching him calmly.

"You're still here." Statement and question in one.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I was curious."

Oliver stood there a moment, nonplussed, trying to figure out if this person was suicidal or just plain crazy.

The man shook his head. "Neither, actually." Oliver looked at the man sharply. He knew he hadn't said anything.

"No, you didn't."

"You can read my mind." Oliver thought that he should probably be more worried about that than he actually was.

"Yes. To a point."

"Who are you?"

"Names don't matter. But you may call me Teacher." The man considered him carefully for a moment. "And who are you, who dresses all in green and goes out to help those he does not know?"

"As you say, names don't matter."

The man smiled, as if to say _'well played!'_. "Very well... Archer." The man studied him again. Normally such a close scrutiny would set Oliver's nerves on edge, but not this man. He didn't set off any of the alarms strangers normally did.

And that was in itself strange.

What was stranger still was that Oliver felt it didn't matter. That with this man, he was safe.

Oliver took a moment to really look at the man. He hadn't had the time before and the stranger really was quite remarkable in appearance. Tall, thin to the point where Oliver wanted to take some of his few precious dollars and offer to buy the man a meal, and so pale that he wondered in the back of his mind if there were something to those vampire legends after all, Oliver knew he'd remember this man for a long time - even without the strange mind-reading thing.

And wasn't that a thing that should be setting off every alarm-bell he had.

And yet... it wasn't.

In some ways, that was the strangest thing of all, that this stranger, with his odd looks and odder ways, not only wasn't freaking him out, setting every survival instinct he had on edge, but left him feeling that he could trust him, that he was safe.

That's the only explanation he could come up with for what happened next.

"I owe you a debt," the man said after a moment.

Oliver shrugged. "You owe me nothing." He looked away, intensely studying a streetlamp. "It's what I do."

"Maybe. But still, I would repay your kindness. Tell me, if you could have anything in the world, what would it be?"

"To go home," Oliver answered, before he thought.

"Where is that?"

"Doesn't matter. I can't go back there."

"Humor me." The stranger's voice was kind, compelling.

And for some reason Oliver could never explain later, he believed him. "Starling City."

The man nodded. "Very well. I'll see what I can do."

And between one breath and the next, he was gone, leaving nothing but an odd shimmer in the air behind him.

Oliver shook off the feeling of strangeness, that something very important had just happened. It was just a stranger's attempt to be kind.

Nothing would ever come of it.

It couldn't.

He told Felicity of his encounter when he got back. She agreed that it was likely the kindly-meant ramblings of a rescued eccentric.

They both put it out of their minds, let it go in favor of the rest of their lives, the day-to-day that meant so much these days.

They never expected it to come to anything.

But they were wrong.

>>>\----------->

"Oliver, come look at this." she said a few days later, her face a mask of puzzlement.

 

 **From: Ray Palmer [[r.palmer@palmertechnologies.com](mailto:r.palmer@palmertechnologies.com)]**  
**To: Joy Archer [[j.archer@palmertechnologies.com](mailto:j.archer@palmertechnologies.com)]**  
**Subject: Job Offer**

**My dear Ms Archer:**

**I don't know what you've been doing when you're not hacking into my computer networks at my request, but you've obviously gotten someone's attention. A mutual friend asked me to pass along the message that it's safe, read 'strongly requested', for you and your boyfriend to return home.**

**I hope you'll accept his offer. I've missed seeing you around the office.**

**Sincerely,**

**Ray Palmer**

 

“Joy Archer?” Oliver asked, a pained expression on his face.

“What?” she replied, a little defensively. “I had to give them SOMETHING to put on the tax forms.”

He rolled his eyes, said nothing further.

“So, do you believe it?” she asked finally, when the silence remained unbroken.

“Do you? You... know him better than I do.” Felicity turned to find Oliver wearing that carefully-blank expression that meant he was wearing a mask, whether or not he was wearing green leather at the time.

She reached out, met stone where muscle should be. Wondered briefly if it was due to the fact that it was Ray sending the message or what the message meant, if true.

Decided it didn't matter.

“I... do,” she said slowly. “Believe it, that is. Or at least, I believe that Ray believes he's telling the truth. You know how we can confirm it.”

He nodded. Went back to his room, got the burner phone he'd used as Arrow. The one that Felicity had modified to disguise voices.

He came back, dialed a number.

“Lance.”

“You contacted me.” Oliver replied without preamble, reluctant to remain on the line longer than necessary. Yes, it was a burner phone, and therefore should be untraceable, but as Felicity had proven on more than one occasion, there were always ways to find the difficult-to-find, and technology was moving forward all the time.

“Ah, yes. My little green friend. I don't know where you are or what you did, but you sure got somebody's attention.”

“So I've heard. Care to elaborate?”

"Word came down from the Commissioner's office that all charges against you are to be dropped. With prejudice. And that you are to be... 'encouraged' was the word I believe they used, to return." He paused. "And part of that encouragement is amnesty for anyone who's been... helping you."

"Do you believe it?" Oliver asked, wary of his good fortune.

"I do, actually. It's too weird for it not to be true. In all my years as a cop, I have never had something like this happen before." A pause. "Washington doesn't normally care what we do here - a little nowhere city on the other coast. But this time, they did." Silence. Behind him, Oliver heard the sounds of sudden typing. "Come home." was all Lance said, but Oliver thought he could hear the echoes of other words behind it. _My son. Please._

"Thank you, Captain." Oliver took a breath. "I'll... think about it."

"Don't think too long. They seemed awfully insistent. There's no guarantee they won't turn their request into a demand if you take too much time."

"Understood." He rang off, looked down at Felicity, who'd turned as white as the man he met the other night. Wordlessly, she pointed at the screen.

A Google search. 'Tall, white, Teacher' But what was there on the screen had little to do with education.

Except perhaps, in the lesson that this world, this Universe, was far larger than they thought.

Nearly every one of the entries on the page spoke of another race, another species, born far from this world.

Oliver took a moment, a breath, to steady himself, his shaken world and worldview. "Well," he said. "I guess that explains why Washington was involved."

"I guess so," Felicity replied. "So... what are you going to do?"

"Pack." He turned to Felicity. "We're going home."

 _Thank you,_ he said silently, wondering if the man would hear him.

 _You're welcome,_ came back through the air, unheard by any ears but his.

He smiled and went to his room to start packing.

It was time to go home.

>>>\----------->

That night, as he lay there with Felicity at his side, too excited to sleep, but knowing the value of rest, he started drifting, found himself in a strange world that was not the one where his body lay, but was not yet anywhere else either.

As he stood there, observing his surroundings, he saw a being approaching him. Tall, thin, white.

Alien.

He waited until the being came closer before he spoke. "Teacher?"

"Yes. As I really am."

Oliver nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Teacher made a gesture that Oliver suspected was his species' equivalent of a shrug. "It was pleasant to be able to use my influence to help another for once."

"So what were you really doing out there that night?" The question he'd been wanting to ask ever since Felicity had shown him what she'd found. "I get the feeling you didn't really need me to rescue you."

"As I said, I was curious. Living where we do, I don't often get the chance to see humanity first-hand. Not that isn't military." He paused. "Every so often, they'll take a group of us into the city, the casinos, to see the sights. The people there know not to be curious." He shrugged again. "A pleasant diversion, a change from the everyday, but still, not why I'm here." At Oliver's questioning look, he continued, "Among my people, among each other we call ourselves what we are, what we do. My name really is 'Teacher'. What I'm here to do, is to teach my people of yours and, to the extent I can, to teach your people of mine."

"I find that... needlessly difficult to do from a military reserve."

"So, when a group of us were taken to Las Vegas to see the sights, I took the opportunity to slip away. See more than just the show. See some of what real humanity looks like."

"You certainly saw that." Heavily-laden irony laced his voice.

"I was in no real danger. You are right about that. My people have ways of defending themselves. But still, I did not expect what happened. Either from them, or from you." A small quirk of the lips in what might have been a smile passed across Teacher's face. "A most educational experience."

Oliver laughed, nodded. "Will I see you again?"

"In dreams, certainly. In your waking moments, I don't know. I'd like to think so." A pause. "I'd love to come see your city, see how humanity lives there. Someday, maybe I'll get to."

"Dream well, Oliver Queen. Until we meet again."

And Oliver found himself alone, drifting off towards the first peaceful sleep he'd had in far too long.

>>>\----------->

Their return to Starling City was swift. The house had been furnished, so there was nothing to do there but pack their few personal belongings and arrange for a cleaning service to come in and take care of the rest.

Felicity gave the landlord their notice and an address to send their security deposit back to.

Once it had been safe to reveal where they were, Felicity insisted on giving her mother a call. Her mother hadn't questioned their presence in the city, but there was something about her silence on the subject that had Felicity suspecting that she knew far more than she let on.

But the dinner went well, and, while a little disappointed at their returning home so soon, Donna Smoak was happy to have seen them, even for such a short time.

Felicity could also tell that the fact that Oliver was with her meant that her mother was that much closer to planning their wedding, but that fact no longer bothered her.

The one good thing that had come from all this was the reassurance on both their parts that they understood the important things about each other, the parts that made them who they were.

That even tho' both of them would always keep secrets from the world, they no longer had to keep secrets from each other.

So it was only a matter of a few days before they found themselves driving West, heading back home to a city they'd thought left for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ##### Well, there you go. There is a part of me that feels like I should apologize - for the most part, I try to keep the paranormal only in stories where I expect it to be - but there is another, larger part of me that thinks I shouldn't have to.
> 
> ##### So, no, I'm not going to apologize for this look at the world. There is truth to this section, above and beyond what you might expect.
> 
> ##### Do Felicity's search some time, see what you find. While the Teacher of my story is not the Teacher that Charles Hall met all those years ago, still, he does exist, and as far as I can know, really is out there living in Nevada somewhere in the military-protected lands. Of course, I have no current way to verify that, other than psychic-functioning, which, like so many other human skillz, can be so very fragile and subject to interpretation, but still, I like to believe that the person I have met along my way is real.
> 
> ##### I certainly hope so, anyway. He is kyool peeps. (And thank Goodness has a sense of humor! Got a sense of tinkly laughter when he found out I'd written him into this story.) And like Teacher, I too, hope for a world In Which we can meet in the daylight, with no glamours and no masks.
> 
> ##### As ever, if you've liked what you've read and would like to see the rest of it (about another chapter, nearly complete) sooner rather than later, please, leave a comment, and/or a kudo, let me know you're out there reading and enjoying. I and my Muse(s) thank you.
> 
> ##### -B!


	10. (while my heart still lives)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which there is a homecoming, a salute to spring, and I fail to apologize for my writing preferences.

Oliver Queen thought the Starling City skyline was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

And this time... this time he was more able to appreciate it.

Before, the memory of pain and death and soul-deep grieving had been too close for him to do more than dully appreciate the homecoming.

But now... now he was awake and aware and so very, very grateful.

Grateful that he could return home, a thing he'd never expected to happen.

Ever.

Not really return.

He'd always expected to live under the shadow of his crimes forever.

In his heart, he knew he still would.

But to the outside world, at least, he was free.

And, there was the other thing that he hadn't expected, still wasn't entirely sure he deserved, but would spend every breath in his body to prove worthy of.

He looked over at where Felicity sat behind the wheel, guiding them safely home.

That was what she did.

What she'd always done.

Whether it was keeping the networks and the computers of Queen, Consolidated safe from harm, or keeping himself and the rest of them safe and sane, it was all about guiding them home.

>>>\----------->

The first stop was to the Foundry. Still sadly empty, tho' Felicity had already begun the restocking and refurbishing. But there was one thing that it contained that Oliver hadn't expected and wasn't at all happy about.

His sister.

Roy looked up at him as he clattered down the stairs.

"She found my bow," was all he said.

Oliver nodded, once. There would be words about this, later, but not now.

Thea turned at the sound. "Oliver?" she said, before launching herself at him in a fierce hug. "Oh, my God! I never thought I'd see you again."

"It's okay, Speedy. I'm here now," he whispered against her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?" 

"Promise."

And for once, it was a promise he intended to keep.

He reluctantly let her go.

If he were going to ensure that he kept that promise, there were some things he needed to take care of.

"Roy, if I can speak to you a moment, please." Roy looked at him, then nodded at Thea.

"I'll be upstairs, waiting," she said as she left.

"So what happened, Oliver? Last thing I knew, your trial..."

"All the charges have been dismissed. With prejudice." Roy nodded.

"Against all of us." Roy looked at him. "I made sure of it."

Roy nodded again.

"So what now?" he asked.

Oliver shook his head. "I don't know. But I do know this. It feels good to be back."

"Welcome home, Oliver." They both turned to find Diggle coming down the stairs.

"Thank you." The two men embraced.

"Felicity texted me. Had to come see for myself." Diggle explained before looking at him gravely. "So what now, boss?"

"Like I told Roy, I don't know yet. There's one thing I have to make sure of first."

"Let us know." Diggle looked at his watch. "I'd better be getting back to Lyla. She'll want to know that you're for real. I just came by to prove it to myself."

"And I'd better get back to Thea. You know how good she is with waiting."

Oliver smiled. He knew very well. He hadn't nicknamed his sister 'Speedy' for nothing.

"Thank you." At their pause, he said, "For coming. For staying. For being a part of this."

They nodded.

"We're here for you, man." Diggle said for both of them. "You know that."

"I do." And with that they were gone.

>>>\----------->

It didn't take long for the call to come through.

"I hear you're back," Lance said.

"That I am, Captain." 

"Good.” Oliver was surprised at how good that simple word sounded. “Listen. Do me a favor," Lance continued.

"What, Captain?"

"Don't push it. Those orders were pretty specific about us leaving you alone. But...."

"Understood, Captain."

"That was on the record. Off the record... I'd like to be able to call upon you and your team from time to time."

"You know where to reach us, Captain,"

"That I do." A pause. "Welcome home, Queen."

"It's good to be back."

>>>\----------->

There was only one thing left to do. He went upstairs to find Felicity waiting for him.

"How'd it go?" She'd left him to do his own reconnecting - she wasn't yet ready to face all that the Foundry meant. The emptiness of the room that she feared would shortly become reflected in the emptiness of her heart, as things returned to what passed for normal for them.

"It's good. Lance called - he'd like us, on the record, to take it easy."

"And off the record?"

"He'd like us to help."

She blinked at him. "Really?" was all she said.

"Really." He smiled, one of the real ones that always made her face light up.

"There's one more thing I'd like to do before we call it a day."

"What?" she asked curiously.

"This." He reached out, pulled her to him, and kissed her as if his life depended on it.

It took her only the briefest of instants to respond, kissing him back with a hunger that matched his.

When they finally broke apart, it was only long enough for Felicity to say "About time you meant it," and for Oliver to growl something low and wordless in his throat and pull her down the stairs, back down into the lair, praying she'd left the cot. This wasn't his ideal place for their first time, but he was done waiting.

By some miracle he didn't want to think about too closely, Felicity had a condom in her purse.

And by some miracle that left him desiring this woman even more, if that were possible, he noticed that she'd had the cot replaced with a real bed.

A bed large enough for two.

"I'd hoped." was all she said.

Was all she needed to say.

He pulled her down with him onto the mattress, finally letting himself fall as he had wanted to fall for years, ever since he first saw her face, back when he'd never been sure if he was ever coming home again.

She fell with him, just as eager, just as desiring.

Together, they celebrated.

Their freedom.

From fear.

From regret.

Their homecoming.

To their city.

To each other.

And when it was over and they lay, hot and sweaty in the tangled bedsheets, Felicity bent over and kissed him, long and deep.

"Welcome home, Oliver Queen."

He returned the favor, savoring every moment, every taste and touch and feel of her, against his body, against his mind, against his heart.

"Welcome home, Felicity Smoak." Low and husky, full of promise and pleasure.

And indeed it was.

>>>\----------->

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ##### And there you have it. Totally pantsed. Frequently unexpected.
> 
> ##### And now finished.
> 
> ##### And no, I shall not be apologizing for the fact that I do not write smut, and the times I have broken that I can count on the fingers of one hand with fingers left over.
> 
> ##### There is a sequel to this - where Teacher does indeed come to Starling - but it is no more than a thought at the moment.
> 
> ##### If you'd like to read it, after I get the 'Public Enemy'-based stories a bit more under control, let me know in the comments.
> 
> ##### In general, if you've enjoyed what you read, have thoughts you'd like to share, things you'd like to see more of, etc., again, please leave me a message in the comments and/or a kudo if you have not already done so. They make my day and inspire both me and my Muse(s).
> 
> ##### -B!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks muchly to serenadreams, for having written and inspired.
> 
> ##### There might be more, if I can make it work and still have some relation to a possible reality.
> 
> ##### If you'd like more, let me know - comments do indeed feed the Muse.
> 
> ##### -B!
> 
> ##### ETA: Yes, there's more! Couple of chunks, at least. We'll see what the Muse gives past that. -B!
> 
> ##### ETFA: There are indeed. However there is also a Stuck - what would be enough to allow the cops to grant amnesty in return for Felicity and Oliver coming home and cleaning up the mess? If you have thoughts, feel free to leave them in a comment - credit given if I use it, thanks given in any case. -B!
> 
> ETFAA: And it is done. Pantsed. Pondered. Produced.
> 
> There is potential for a sequel - let me know if you'd be interested in my telling the tale. 
> 
> -B!


End file.
